A group walks along the Merced River in Yosemite Valley in winter - a good time for viewing wildlife.

Photo: Michael Macor, The Chronicle

A group walks along the Merced River in Yosemite Valley in winter -...

Image 2 of 4

Yosemite in winter is crisp and icy, but after a trek in the snow, a fire at the lodge awaits.

Photo: Michael Macor, The Chronicle

Yosemite in winter is crisp and icy, but after a trek in the snow,...

Image 3 of 4

Photographer Lance Trott, of San Jose, records the beauty of Yosemite Valley, Calif., with El Capitan rising in the background, on Tuesday Jan. 8, 2013. Yosemite National Park announced today the release of two Wild and Scenic River comprehensive Management Plan Draft Environmental Impact Statements for the Merced River and the Tuolumne River for public review and comment.

Photo: Michael Macor, The Chronicle

Photographer Lance Trott, of San Jose, records the beauty of...

Image 4 of 4

Covered in snow, Yosemite tour tractors sit idle while waiting for the tourists to start flocking back in the spring.

As temperatures drop and snow covers Yosemite National Park, the tourist traffic slows to a trickle, and a cursory glance would make you think that all life has stopped there.

The bears are hibernating, birds have migrated, and it seems as if color and sound have gone on holiday. Noises are muffled in the deep snow, views are reduced to Ansel Adams monochromes of black rocks and white snow framed with half-tones of dark evergreen. Motion slows, even stops as streams and ponds freeze into static icy landscapes and waterfalls are transformed into long blue-and-white ice sculptures, a chilly snapshot of action interrupted. The crisp, dry winter air lacks the smells of earth, of vegetation, of life.

But as I discovered during a recent visit, Yosemite is a feast for the senses in wintertime, made all the more tasty with special programs, lower prices - and a lack of crowds.

It's a great way to discover this national park in entirely new ways.

Nature on different frequency

As I walk the plowed paths of Yosemite Valley, I find that as winter reduces the usual barrage of sights, sounds and smells, all five senses seem to heighten their powers.

The scent of crushed pine needles and sap on the trail waft toward my nose like pumped bakery smells, made more intense for lack of competing odors. The squeaky crunch-crunch of my footsteps on snowpack seems like a cacophony of sound until the deep rumbling bass tones of a distant avalanche demonstrates I'm only a bit player in Yosemite's nonstop winter symphony.

The sequoia's neighbor, a black oak, sports frozen drops of water at the end of each branch like ice-buds instead of leaves, as if it were planning to bloom into a thousand Christmas tree snowflake ornaments. As we emerge from the forest, we're dazzled as the bright sun spotlights ice crystals in the snow, making them sparkle like tiny diamonds. Our guided stroll is just one of many offered in Yosemite in winter, including others with topics ranging from geology to history and photography.

The landscape, stripped of summer foliage, makes wildlife spotting easier in the winter months, exposing a population of marmots, bobcats, foxes and other furry creatures scurrying through the thinned woods. Driving the roads to scenic overlooks, I'm joined by some fellow creatures also seeking a clear path through the terrain.

Two young, thin deer, unconcerned with my presence, jog alongside my car as if they're in training. Farther along a coyote sits at the edge of the road, engaged in a staring contest with another driver. The coyote's thick winter fur makes the carnivore look warm and cuddly, as if he, too, is on winter holiday, bundled up to enjoy a walk in the woods.

When I exit nature to enter the warm embrace of Yosemite's historic Ahwahnee Lodge, my winter-heightened senses are overwhelmed. Guests chatter in front of a roaring, crackling fire in the lounge. The sun shines through towering stained-glass windows, illuminating a rainbow of Indian-style wall hangings. A cooking demonstration, part of the hotel's Chef's Holidays program, fills the great room with smells that include butter-soaked garlic and onion from the grill.

Shuffle into action

After a long slumber in the lodge, it's time for some Yosemite action. Winter here isn't merely a time to sit by the fire and enjoy a hot toddy. The changing of the seasons merely means a change of equipment for active visitors.

On a January day with temperatures in the 40s, some people waddle around bundled like multicolored Michelin men, others clomp along with snowshoes and poles through a meadow, while a woman jogs by wearing shorts, undeterred by the ice and snow-rimmed trail. A day's activity plan can look like a Winter Olympics schedule, combining events in skating, downhill and cross-country skiing.

From the base of the Badger Peak ski area, 40-year-veteran park ranger Dean Shenk leads my group on a two-hour snowshoe hike - "or as I like to call it," he says, "a shuffle."

We understand why as he tries to teach us how to walk in snowshoes without tripping over our now larger, flattened and clawed feet. He leads us through packed and powdery snow between groves of pine and aspen, over shining hoar frost, to the top of Badger Pass, at about 7,700 feet.

We're rewarded with a sweeping view of Yosemite Valley, overlooking a vista of snow-covered mountains framing the icon of Half Dome. Dean points out the remnants of Black Mountain Glacier, where almost 150 years ago, a young, intrepid John Muir clomped uphill through similar snow to try to prove his theories about glaciers carving the park's features.

After snowshoeing, I spend the afternoon skiing at Badger Pass. "California's Original Ski Resort," as its tagline says, harks back to its beginning in the 1930s, when the hill began lift service, including a cable-pulled sleigh called the Queen Mary.

Badger is small compared with the major Tahoe resorts, with just five short lifts and 10 ski runs. But on a non-holiday Tuesday, I share these slopes with maybe a dozen skiers, making it feel like my own personal ski club. Back down in the valley, at the Curry Village skating rink, a handful of kids and adults loop around a hockey-size rink under a spectacular backdrop of cliffs and forest. A roaring fire in the outdoor seating area gives it a feel of a welcoming winter camp.

As the sun begins to set, shooting a red alpine glow on the upper section of Half Dome, visitors gather in groups of two or three at viewpoints for snapshots, no summer jostling for parking or standing room needed. My camera memory overflowing with images, my stomach filled with good food, and a body spent from activity, I leave Yosemite for the season, my winter feast complete.